


Behave, on Boxing Day

by ono no komachi sings mitski blues (mataestrella)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, I'm sorry it's so short, M/M, fluff with light smut, holiday drabble, spot them, trope mishmash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21950599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mataestrella/pseuds/ono%20no%20komachi%20sings%20mitski%20blues
Summary: Hux wakes up on Christmas morning missing Kylo.  A trip down yesteryear's Boxing Night brings him right in front of the tree in their living room.There is a surprise waiting.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43
Collections: Kylux Fanworks Secret Santa 2019





	Behave, on Boxing Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RachelOfCyberia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelOfCyberia/gifts).



The windows are covered in a frosty sheen when the sun rose up on Christmas morning, and the lavender streaks of daybreak lay her soft touch upon Hux’s reposed face. He stirs awake not because of the curtains forgotten to be drawn shut yesterday evening after quietly watching the first snowfall without Kylo nearby. Not because of the flooding memories of yesteryear’s winter, on Boxing Night, when he spent his time hurriedly packing his things and leaving their shared apartment as he evaded the bottles Kylo left in his bull-like shamble of a temper. Not because of the weight of their exchanged words, like broken glass, cut deeply that they couldn’t pretend that they were happy together. They weren’t happy pretending to be together until it wasn’t all pretend. That was last Boxing Night. They now know how to behave around each other, without pretending or hiding what brought them together. 

They were both horrible human messes, patched together by daddy issues, power complexes, and obsessive ideals of perfection. And that made them the best odd pair to exist.

Hux turns to his side only to be met by sleep-warm sheets, and the spot it resides empty. He smiles to himself before rolling over to that spot to breathe in, to take it all in. He remembers how they fucked with each other at work, fucked over the other at work, and dry-humped each other at work (in a broom closet, how romantic). Though yesterday night’s tryst, spontaneous before Kylo had to catch a red eye to Berlin in half-an-hour, had to be so much more than the others before. Every touch, more tender than the last. Every drawn breath, heady that the air between them felt like steam. And every time, Hux and Kylo felt like they were falling as they looked into each other’s eyes.

Hux made his tea when he came downstairs, and he checks the clock on the stove as he pours himself a cup. Perhaps it is a bad time to call him, just so he can hear his voice with a belated holiday greeting. The apartment is too quiet, save for Millicent snoring softly on her small bed as her ginger ears twitch. Next to her, their small tree is simply decorated with multicolored lights, occasional baubles, and silver stars. The presents underneath were few; some addressed from Kylo’s college pals, from co-workers, from Hux’s stepmother, Kylo’s family… However, Hux spots another hidden amongst the tree decor. He sees a red velveteen pouch with its golden drawstrings tied in a bow on a branch. He knows it wasn’t there yesterday nor the day before, since he proposed he organize the presents so none of them to trip over and break a present. He might as well check out the odd ornament. _Christmas is about opening presents, right?_

He places his cup down on the desk and reaches to untie the pouch from the branch. In his hands the weight of whatever is inside didn’t feel all that heavy. The pouch was no bigger than the palm of his sweating hand. _Huh_ , he wonders, _why do I feel different?_

Hux opens the pouch by pulling the ends of the seam apart. Inside, there is a hastily-folded piece of yellow notepad. He unfolds the paper and barely registers the plink of metal dropping on the hardwood floors. The paper remains still in Hux’s trembling hands as he incredulously stares at the note, then suddenly dive to the ground in search of the object that flew out of the scrap of paper. The note lies just by the foot of the tree, just like the cup of tea on the table--- forgotten (but not for its content)

It read: “Be my Santa Baby--- Yes or No?”

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this piece, giftee. I loved your present.


End file.
